


the words slip out

by kaneklutz



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic - Freeform, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Pre-Relationship, The Magnus Archives Season 3, as usual i cannot distinguish between the two, why is it so hard to tag the main pairing of this fucking fandom i hate it here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaneklutz/pseuds/kaneklutz
Summary: “People deserve nice things,” he says simply. And when Jon opens his mouth to interrupt, to refute the statement because he doesn’t deserve nice things,he doesn’t count as ‘people',Martin continues, “Yes, Jon. Even you.”-At the end of all things, there will always be comfort in being loved.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	the words slip out

**Author's Note:**

> impulse posting this because i'm sick at home and so bored 
> 
> cw hella self worth issues (that's the whole fic so if you wanna hop out please do, keep safe)

“Why are you so nice to me?”

The question comes unbidden, slips from his mouth like oil. Dark and shining, unmistakeable. He can’t take it back, can’t wipe it away, and it stains the air between them.

Martin pauses in the doorway, his large frame backlit by the lights in the corridor. His shoulders raise, tensing, then he seems to almost deflate, shrinking impossibly small. 

“People deserve nice things,” he says simply. And when Jon opens his mouth to interrupt, to refute the statement because he doesn’t deserve nice things, _he doesn’t count as ‘people',_ Martin continues, “Yes, Jon. Even you.”

He realizes abruptly that he is shaking, miniscule shivers running down his spine, and when he holds out his hand, it too shakes, the fingers trembling finely. Forming a fist, he pulls back, forces his arms down to his side. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers hollowly. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Martin, this is all my fault. You know it, don’t _lie_ to me, please–”

Martin turns, and his face is unreadable but his eyes shine, his mouth sets in a hard, straight line. He takes a slow, careful breath, and Jon braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut as Martin walks closer. 

When Jon isn’t slapped, or shaken, or screamed at, his eyes flutter open. Martin stands in front of him, holding out his hands. His posture is self conscious, his arms open awkwardly, but the intention is clear, and he’s–

Martin’s safe, is all Jon can think.

He takes a step forward, then another, and tips into Martin’s arms, into an embrace that is real, and safe, and something he can trust in a world that seems determined to rob him of that trust.

“You know I– I’ve lied before,” Martin says as he smooths his hands over Jon’s hair, running his fingers through the tangled knots and undoing them with care. “It comes too easily to me, I think. Probably something I should fix. But Jon, I promise you. I’m not lying when I say that this isn’t all your fault.”

A sob falls from his throat, thick and suffocating as he buries himself in Martin’s chest, eyes squeezed shut as tears trickles from the corners, spilling down his cheeks.

“Shh, shh,” Martin murmurs, holding Jon close as they stand together in the dark office. A cigarette lies on the ashtray, burning itself out.

Jon prays that this will last forever, prays that he can just rest here in Martin’s arms, warm and protected. Facing what lurks beyond, in the dark, seems such an insurmountable and unnecessary task, when he could just exist, peacefully.

He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want Martin to slip away from him like everyone else has over the years. Broken hearts and bones, love lost and friendships unraveled. And he doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to say the wrong thing like he always has, doesn’t want to pull away when he should be pushing closer, doesn’t want to _die_.

There are so many things in this world he doesn’t want. It has always been like this. A young child grown older and cynical, who has always needed nothing but to push away what he does not wish for. A thousand no’s, and a single broken, whispered yes.

”Please stay,” Jon whispers in lieu of all that he cannot say. He doesn’t want to be weak, and so holds the tattered scraps of his pride in a clenched fist.

Martin’s hands pause briefly in their petting, then resume. His touch is soft, still, but less hesitant.

”Yeah, okay,” he replies gently.

They remain together, and that night, Jon does not shatter apart.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, shout out to the fruits in AA y'all keep me going <3 
> 
> i'm on tumblr @loverdontleave come say hi :]
> 
> ( additional headcanons at the end as always: martin being a compulsive liar who lies about the smallest things in conversation just to make a story a little funnier, or to make the small talk flow a little smoother, who lies on instinct even when there's really no reason to do so other than that it'll make things just a /little/ bit easier-)
> 
> (this does not mean web martin this just means i am once again projecting and i think that it would fit him well)


End file.
